A Kiss is Just a Kiss
by mindmelda
Summary: Omi needs advice from someone older and wiser. Yodji? Shounen-ai. Yodji says a few bad words.


Title: A Kiss is Just a Kiss  
  
Author: Gina Lin  
  
Series: Weiss Kreuz Genre: Minor Angst, Humor Pairing: Ken/Omi, Omi/Yohji-Friendship Warning: Cavity inducing sweetness (It's Omi, what did you expect?), shounen-ai Rating: PG-13 for language Archived: FF.net, S_E Updates, Found Treasures  
  
Disclaimer: I make no money from writing about handsome florist assassins. I will wash them of sticky fingerprints and drool and return them when I'm done playing, I promise.  
  
Summary: Omi needs some advice from someone older and supposedly wiser.  
  
A Kiss is Just a Kiss  
  
An uncharacteristically clumsy movement was Yohji's first clue that not all was well with his young friend.  
  
The pot of freesia lay smashed on the floor, and Omi stared at it, flushed with embarrassment.  
  
"Sorry, I'll clean that up right away!" Omi made a dash for the closet of cleaning supplies, and came back with a broom and dustpan.  
  
He quickly and efficiently swept up the mess and with an audible sigh, placed the broken shards in the trash, his fingers pausing to brush the bruised petals lightly.  
  
"Maybe we can save the plant." Omi's normally cheerful voice sounded weary. "You know, re-pot it."  
  
"It's possible, I guess, but it's not worth it. Just throw it away. We have plenty of freesia blossoms." Yohji watched Omi sigh again as he slowly nodded and placed the lid on the trash like someone closing a coffin for the last time.  
  
"Omi, it's just a plant. I hardly think a period of mourning is required. Or is this about something else?"  
  
"Is what about something else, Yohji-kun?" Omi brushed his dirty hands on his yellow apron and headed towards the sink to wash his hands.  
  
"The pissy mood you seem to be in. I was looking forward to the usual cheerful Omi since I hate working mornings. I want you to know, you're ruining my day." Yohji grinned slyly to take the sting out of his teasing.  
  
"I'm sorry, Yohji-kun, I wasn't aware I was ruining your day. Perhaps I should make it up to you by letting you work with Aya-kun all next week. I'm sure he'll be able to cheer you up." Omi's sarcasm was so unexpected, Yohji felt his mouth hang open for a few moments before he comically reached up and shoved his jaw closed with a click.  
  
"Now I know something is wrong with you. Either that or you have switched bodies with Aya. One has to wonder what he is doing with your body." Yohji raised his brows and leered, hoping Omi would take the bait as usual and reward him with a chuckle for his teasing.  
  
Omi simply stared at him for a moment and returned quietly to his previous task of watering potted flowers.  
  
"I can see that this calls for drastic measures."  
  
Yohji sauntered up to Omi and with one quick movement, pulled the watering can from his grasp, and swung him around to pin him against an empty worktable, holding his wrists with one hand, the other poised claw-like above Omi's ribcage.  
  
"You will tell me what I want to hear, or I shall begin the torture." Yohji announced this in a horrible accent out of a low budget movie.  
  
In spite of himself, Omi began to giggle. "Yohji, let me go! No, no, no tickling. Pleeeease!" His voice went up two registers and embarrassingly cracked as Yohji methodically dug into the tender flesh between his ribs.  
  
Omi grew breathless and flushed, begging, and finally, tears began to run down his face. Yohji stopped as he looked down and realized that they were no longer tears of laughter.  
  
"Omi, I'm sorry!" He pulled the boy into his shoulder and began to rub him consolingly on the back. Silent sobs hiccuped against his chest and a wave of protectiveness swept through him.  
  
"It's okay, I know you were just teasing." Omi finally spoke. He snuffled his face against Yohji's shoulder one last time and pulled back, wiping his face roughly with the back of his hand, looking at the floor. Large blue eyes were red-rimmed and bleary, and he bravely tried a smile to counter Yohji's worried countenance.  
  
"All right, I won't push. Who or whatever is hurting you, I hope gets better." Yohji shrugged, a gesture of helplessness. He still held Omi's wrists in a light grip and was unconsciously making small comforting circles with his thumbs.  
  
"If I tell you, you'll laugh." Omi muttered, still looking at the floor, his face flushed.  
  
"I might," Yohji conceded. "It depends on how funny it is." He cocked an eyebrow, waiting.  
  
"It's a joke all right." Omi said miserably. He rubbed his face again. "A big fat joke."  
  
"Omi darling, I have many talents, but mind reading is not one of them. If you want me to react, you're going to have to tell me." Yohji heard the impatience in his tone and saw it hit Omi like a small slap to the face.  
  
"It's Ken-kun." Omi whispered, as a new wave of blushing stained his fair golden skin. Yohji watched it travel slowly up the young man's neck to meet the pink already pooled across his cheekbones.  
  
"My, Ken-ken must be a hell of a kisser." Yohji kept his gaze on the blush; it was rather fascinating watching it shift around on Omi's gentle features.  
  
"W-what makes you say that?" Omi stuttered and the blush turned from pink to a deeper rose shade.  
  
"Among my many talents is eavesdropping. You shouldn't let Ken kiss you outside of my open bedroom window if it's a big secret."  
  
Omi narrowed his reddened eyes. "You were listening?" He managed to look indignant and pleased at the same time.  
  
"Not on purpose, but after a few years of detective work that consisted largely of spying on cheating spouses, I know what an intense liplock sounds like. Then when I hear the voice of Omi moan, 'Oh, Ken, more, more!' I generally assume that someone named Ken is making out with Omi under my bedroom window. Call me brilliant, but hey, I can put two and two together and make four."  
  
"You knew, but you haven't said anything." Omi stated this with a look of relief on his face.  
  
"No, who would I tell. Aya? Aya does not care about his own love life, much less other people's, so what fun would it be to tell him?"  
  
"You're not shocked?" Omi watched his older friend's face carefully.  
  
"Omi, you can't even imagine what it would take to shock me." Yohji grinned. "Well, okay, if it had been Aya, I'd have been shocked. Aya kissing anyone would shock me."  
  
Omi protested. "You need to quit picking on Aya-kun! He's not like you, but he's okay."  
  
"Aya-kun seriously needs to be bent over a table and ravished silly, but hey, find me someone who wants to risk decapitation to do it."  
  
Omi's eyes widened, and he raised a hand to stifle his giggle at that mental image.  
  
Yohji grinned even wider and grabbed Omi into a fierce manly hug as they both laughed.  
  
"Come on, Omi-chan, break time, its slow today. And then you're going to tell me why Ken is making you act like your puppy was run over."  
  
Yohji went to fetch sodas and they sat in the back room, Yohji a study in casual grace with his large booted feet upon the worktable, Omi playing idly with some stray flower petals scattered on the table.  
  
"I need a cigarette if we're going to talk about sex." Yohji rummaged in his apron pocket and tapped out a cigarette, lighting it.  
  
"Why do people need a cigarette after sex?" Omi asked shyly, wrinkling his nose at the smoke.  
  
"You need a cigarette after anything important. Sex, killing, buying expensive new Italian boots."  
  
Omi snickered, and swallowed a mouthful of cola.  
  
"Those things have nothing to do with each other."  
  
"Sure they do, you think the same thing afterwards; 'Why the fuck did I do that, I gotta get outta here!'"  
  
Omi shook his head.  
  
"So, what's up with you and Ken-ken. Just some experimental tongue or are you two bumping uglies, or what?"  
  
Omi choked on his soda. "That is so crude!"  
  
"I'm a crude guy, Omi. I don't even hold out my pinky when I take a piss."  
  
"We haven't um, done THAT yet." Omi began to squirm on his chair.  
  
"Why not? I hope its not because you think Aya or I would object. I hope it's because you don't want to be pushed into anything you're not ready for."  
  
Omi looked at him quizzically. "You're the last person I thought I'd hear say that."  
  
"Why, because you think I want to screw everything with a pulse?"  
  
"Well, yeah, I guess." Omi started to blush again and Yohji found himself thinking how unbearably sweet it was, and then mentally slapped his own face.  
  
"Omi, sweetheart, I hope you realize that a fairly high percentage of what I say and do is total bullshit."  
  
Omi grinned at him. "I know."  
  
"No need to confirm that so quickly." Yohji feigned a pout and gave Omi a look from under his brows.  
  
"Sorry." Omi's grin grew wider. Yohji realized at that moment that he'd admit to a major crime to see that grin. He passed a hand through his honey brown curls and sighed.  
  
"Yohji-kun, have you ever, you know, wanted to kiss a guy?"  
  
Yohji studied his soda for several moments, saying nothing, puffing solemnly on his cigarette.  
  
"You don't have to answer that, I was just curious." Omi said this quickly and began to squirm in his chair again.  
  
"No, it's okay. Yeah, sure. I guess most people are curious about that. Most people whose names are not Aya, I should say."  
  
"Have you? Kissed a guy, I mean."  
  
"Omi, what difference does it make?" Yohji twirled his empty soda can and frowned. He stubbed out the cigarette and put the butt inside the can.  
  
"It would make a difference to me. But, you don't have to answer."  
  
Yohji sighed. "You're too nice and too smart for your own good Omi, you know that?"  
  
"Because I'm letting you off the hook?" Omi grinned again and the look in those eyes was so knowing, Yohji felt the heat rise from his neck to his face. He gulped. He hadn't blushed in years.  
  
"Omi," he growled warningly.  
  
"It was Aya-kun, wasn't it?" Omi said with an almost psychic flash of insight.  
  
"What, me want to kiss Mr. Icicle Up His Ass?" Yohji was on the defensive now, and Omi decided to press his luck.  
  
"So, that's why you're always picking on him. You're just pissed because he turned you down!"  
  
"I am NOT!" Yohji knew that the denial was stupid to his own ears but that didn't seem to be affecting what came out of his mouth.  
  
"You've got it bad for Aya-kun!" Omi snickered.  
  
"Omi, you still haven't told me why you were so upset." Yohji decided that the best defense was a good offense, so he attacked.  
  
"Ken-kun broke our date tomorrow for his soccer chibis." Omi admitted, his face drooping again. "They wanted to play two hours later tomorrow and he couldn't say no."  
  
"Geez, Omi, is that all!" Yohji exploded, standing up and folding his arms indignantly. "A broken date? If I had a yen for every time someone broke a date with me, I'd be able to buy a new wardrobe!"  
  
"Well, yeah, I was upset because we won't be able to go to that new movie I wanted to see. Do you know how hard it is to get advance tickets? Sometimes, I think Ken takes advantage of my forgiving nature." He scowled.  
  
"Here I thought he'd broken your heart, not a stupid movie date!" Yohji rolled his eyes.  
  
"I was ready to go punch him or something!" Yohji fumbled for another cigarette, then remembered he was cutting down to half a pack a day, and swore under his breath.  
  
"Hey, Yohji-kun, wanna buy some tickets? You can ask Aya-kun to go with you!" Omi reached into his pocket and pulled two tickets out of his wallet. "Here, maybe you can get Aya to kiss you!" Omi laughed, his expression sly as he evaded Yohji's grasp.  
  
"Omi, you little demon, I'm going to tickle you until you cough up a lung!"  
  
The End 


End file.
